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by whatstheproblembaby



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:59:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2143209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatstheproblembaby/pseuds/whatstheproblembaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine's bringing home a surprise. Kurt's just surprised Blaine's /there/ sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

The loft door rattling and the sound of a key turning in its lock shook Kurt out of his _Vogue_ -induced reading trance.

 _Wait, Rachel and Santana both have late shifts, who’s-_ was all he had time to think before the door finally slid open smoothly to reveal Blaine and a large bouquet of flowers on the other side. Kurt felt himself smile in an almost instinctive reaction, happiness bubbling up in the pit of his stomach.

“Honey, I’m home!” Blaine called out with a laugh as he walked in and deposited the mass of yellow daisies on the side table. Kurt watched as he took off his lightweight peach cardigan and draped it over a chair before grabbing the flowers again and walking over to sit next to Kurt on the couch. “And I brought you a present.”

“Blaine!” Kurt said, practically able to see the exclamation point flow out of his mouth. “Oh my God, I forgot you lived here for a second.” He took the outstretched bouquet from Blaine’s hands and sniffed it delicately before kicking his blanket off so he could get up to get a vase.

“Wow, baby, I feel really important,” Blaine said. Kurt turned back from the sink to see Blaine giving him his biggest puppy-dog eyes. “How could you forget your own fiance?”

“Not what I meant!” Kurt said. He finished filling the vase and stuck the flowers in carefully before centering them on the kitchen table and walking back over to Blaine. He quickly kissed Blaine’s pouty lips before sitting down and continuing, “You only moved in last week, Blaine, forgive me for not being used to the fact that _you’re here now_ yet.”

“I know, isn’t it crazy?” Blaine asked, always easily appeased when Kurt kisses were involved. “It hit me out of the blue today that I live in New York now with my amazing fiance and two of my best friends and we’re all on our way to living our dreams. I almost cried in the street, Kurt, you would’ve dumped me.”

“You might have to sleep on the couch tonight just for admitting that,” Kurt joked, causing Blaine to shoot him another faux-wounded look. “Oh, calm down, B, even if you _had_ done that it would still be less weird than that guy who paints himself pink and poses on the corner everyday.”

“Very true,” Blaine conceded. “But first you’re forgetting I’m here and next you’re forcing me to sleep on the couch. Are you trying to get rid of me or something?” he teased, taking one of Kurt’s hands in both of his in a manner that Kurt can only describe as unconscious.

“No, I just…” Kurt trailed off, collecting his thoughts. “For so long, this space was mine and Rachel’s, and then mine and Rachel’s and Santana’s, somehow, and you were always welcome but I kept seeing deadlines flash on our time together before you even got in the apartment. Now you’re here, and I don’t have to worry about getting you to the airport on time and making sure you didn’t forget anything important and how to steal one of your cardigans without you noticing-”

“I knew you had my green sweater!” Blaine interrupted. He was so indignantly cute that Kurt had to plant another kiss on him before continuing.

“I’ll give it back to you later. Anyways, now you’re _here,_ like sleeping-in-my-bed, hogging-my-counter-space here, and sometimes when I’m home alone I forget that you’re coming back in a few hours and not a few weeks since it’s still so new. Every time you walk in after being gone for a while, my brain just goes ‘Oh my God, Blaine’s here!’ like I’m one of Pavlov’s freaking dogs or something.”

“That’s adorable, baby,” Blaine said with a huge smile. “I do _not_ hog your counter space, though!”

“Blaine. You have like twelve tubs of hair gel stacked in various places by the sink,” Kurt said, unable to stop himself from giving Blaine his standard _you’re full of shit_ look.

“I’ve only got four, Kurt, and you have at least three different half-empty bottles of hairspray,” Blaine rejoined. His glare was almost identical to Kurt’s own.

“That’s not fair,” Kurt said, which prompted Blaine to stifle a derisive snort. “I use each of those for a specific styling need. You just can’t remember which gel you’ve already opened for some odd reason.”

“It’s not my fault!” Blaine whined. “Santana told me she was going to put hair dye in one of my things of gel one day, so I keep switching up containers on her so she has a worse chance of mixing some in without me noticing.”

“I’m not sure that’s sound logic, B, but I can tell Santana I’ll stop making enough coffee for her in the mornings if she touches your hair gel. Would that help?” Kurt asked, trying to hold back his giggles at Blaine’s anguished expression.

“I’m willing to try anything at this point,” Blaine said. “You might be my lifesaver, baby.” He leaned up to kiss Kurt, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist as he did.

“Mmm, if you’re going to kiss me like that, you might even be able to convince me to give your sweater back, too,” Kurt teased when they came up for air. He felt lazy and content down to his bones after the length of that kiss.

“In the name of fairness, I could probably return that blue scarf I stole from you, too,” Blaine said. He nuzzled into the crook between Kurt’s neck and shoulder for a moment.

“What? You jerk, I thought I’d lost my mind when I couldn’t find that piece!” Kurt almost screeched, smacking gently at Blaine’s shoulderblades.

“Says the man who took my favorite sweater,” Blaine said, unperturbed. He snuggled Kurt tighter, and Kurt quickly gave up on his indignation in favor of scooting himself into Blaine’s lap for more cuddles.

“Trade back and then naptime before ordering in for dinner?” he asked. “I really don’t feel like doing anything, especially since summer break’s almost over.”

“You had me at ‘naptime,’” Blaine said, and they slowly got up to wile away one of their last carefree summer afternoons.


End file.
